Time almost Interviewed Hunter S. Thompson (P. 3)

 

After leaving LA, I deemed LAX Dante's 9^th level of Hell. Our flight was due to depart at 10:00am, at Gate 14 to Denver. While having a coffee, we didn't notice that the gate number had changed to 10. I asked an airport employee if this change was correct, he said to go to gate 14 because 10 is a mistake. Carry bags in hand, we raced to Gate 14 to find it closed! Turning around, we made it to gate 10 to find the gate just wrapping up. I begged the guy at the desk to make an exception and let us on the plane. “No go,” he said. “You should have been here at least 30 minutes early to catch the flight.” I wanted to reach over and throttle the little creep and throw him through a window. However, there was no arguing with this impish man in uniform, so we arranged another flight.

As LAX is the 9^th level of Hell; 3 flights to Denver that day had been canceled. I decided to drink beer in the lounge after the 2^nd cancellation. After 4 beers and a few more hours, the 3^rd scheduled flight had been canceled, too. I set my family in one place and went on an expedition to find another airline headed to Denver. Finally, I found that Alaska Airlines had a flight at 9:00 pm. Booked the tickets and ended up on the plane but sat on the tarmac for another hour. We landed in Denver at midnight at an empty airport. My friend gave up on me and obviously returned home. Caught a taxi to an expensive hotel by the airport. They gave me a 30% discount for the inconvenience, but the room for one-night ended up being $400.

My an old friend picked us up at the hotel on July 3^rd, 2000, at 12:00 noon exactly. We stopped for lunch in the city and drank a few beers and catch-up.

The weather was hot, but I noticed to heat was much different from the sun in Australia. In Denver, it felt clean and didn't sting. In Australia, it stung like the rays were penetratingly dangerous. I remember smelling the mountain air once on the winding roads headed to Coal Creek Canyon. The clean air sent my memory back to childhood scenes of love and danger, and so young, so inexperienced, you believe you were indestructible.

The next morning, Independence Day, my friend and I jumped in his truck and imbibed in the local plant life. Since we had known each other from the age of 12, we had a lot to talk about. Mainly we spoke of the past and our families now and the future. Later I met his grandkids and caught up with his 3 children, all grown-up. I realize it's a cliche, but time does fly, especially when you get a little older.

Lost in conversation, we lost track of time. He looked at his watch and said,

"We need to meet the family for the 4^th of July parade on the main street in Coal Creek. We need to get there fast because the parade starts at 9:00 am and ends at 9:05 am.” I found this funny and typical of his dry sense of humor.

Later that afternoon, I broached the subject of Aspen and interviewing Hunter S. Thompson. He hesitated and said, “Well, we have to go there now because I have things to do.” This was 2:00 in the afternoon, and I knew from my readings that Hunter never rose before 3:00.

So we headed over to Aspen.